Just a Job
by Pearl-Posts
Summary: Sebastian's job is just that, but he's not so sure any more. -Minor implied SebaCiel, Seba-centric fluff, oneshot, rated K for your common Sebastian and Ciel catfights.-


**Kind of sad that I've been on for a while now and this is the first time I've written something that can even be remotely classified as a stand-alone oneshot.**

 **Contains minor, free-for-interpretation SebaCiel. If you don't like that or are offended by that, go away and leave me alone. Other than that, loves!**

 **Anyway, enjoy!**

Sebastian Michaelis has a job to do, and he does it well. As Ciel Phantomhive's butler, there is no room for error in any of the matters Sebastian attends to; the laundry must be pressed, the food must be both visually and orally pleasing, the cutlery must be purged of bloodstains and shining before breakfast, the bookshelves in the library and study must be organised, and there absolutely must not be any dust anywhere! Even Sebastian himself must always look impeccable in his suit and tailcoats.

And it's all just a job to do. Work for Ciel, get revenge for Ciel, eat Ciel's soul, move on to the next marginally entertaining human with no regard for his boring life.

But Ciel Phantomhive is different. He's stronger than the past masters, he's unpredictable, and he's not at all afraid of the demon like the others. No, Ciel Phantomhive is certainly the most entertaining young master he's ever had. If Sebastian weren't completely out of his mind, he'd even say he's come to admire, no... care for, not quite... befriend, absolutely not... perhaps we should stick with care for. Yes, Sebastian the demon has come to care for the boy.

This means the job is more than a job, which is a problem. It's Sebastian's job to fix problems, but he's not too sure about this one. Maybe it's not a problem to be fixed. Which is yet another problem.

But if he couldn't handle two inner crisis at the same time, what kind of butler would he be?

When Sebastian thinks he finally has this all sorted out in his head, the order comes.

December fourteenth is his master's birthday, but also the date of his parents' death. On one rather brutal December fourteenth in which the gardener Finny accidentally let slip during the cake (Sebastian's proud work, he might add, and such a shame it went to waste) that Ciel's parents died on this day. After a rage induced attempt to slather the misspeaker's face with Sebastian's masterpiece of a birthday cake and an incident involving Ciel locking himself stubbornly in his study for an hour, he finally allowed Sebastian to carry on with the nightly rituals.

"Master, will you be alright?" Sebastian asks after the last button on his nightshirt is done up. As a butler he is obligated to ask but as a caretaker and constant companion he is genuinely worried, although he'd never willingly admit the latter unless directly ordered.

"Shut up, I'm not a child," the now fourteen year old earl says shortly, crossing his legs and looking down at the kneeling butler.

"Ah, but you are, young master," Sebastian counters with a smirk. It's not in his usual nature to directly defy his master's words like this, but he is also the boy's tutor, and certain lessons may not go untaught.

"I am the Earl of Phantomhive!" He counters defiantly, crossing his arms stubbornly and raising his chin in a haughty manner. "I'm beginning to get jealous of everyone who hasn't has the misfortune of meeting you, insolent demon."

"Hm," Sebastian ponders, smirking. He's gotten very good at keeping a straight face, even though the young lord's words still hurt a little bit. "I see. You are insulting me to hide the fact that you are actually still incredibly sad." Sebastian smirks and rests his gloved hand on his master's knee. "It is okay to cry, my lord."

"Stop touching me!" Ciel demands, throwing Sebastian's wrist off his leg. "I'm not going to cry, I'm not a child, Sebastian!"

"Of course you're not, young master," Sebastian smirks, accepting defeat, all while noting that Ciel never said anything to counter his suggestion that he was insulting Sebastian to hide the fact that he's really sad.

"Now leave before I make you, incompetent buffoon," Ciel orders, falling backwards on to the bed and grudgingly allowing Sebastian to pull the heavy duvet around his slim shoulders.

"Sleep well, master," Sebastian wishes affectionately, to which he only gets yet another order to leave and is called a much more vulgar name by the innocent boy. Sebastian chuckles lowly and closes the bedroom door. The young master can be so amusing.

 **X_-*-_X It's a time skip! X_-*-_X**

It's two forty-three am, judging by Sebastian's silver pocket watch, and he finally finished polishing the last of the fine china. He goes over a mental checklist, and upon realizing that all of his tasks have been completed, plans on retiring to the library to pass the rest of the dull nighttime with a book.

Only then do his superhuman ears pick up the faint, pained gasp.

He sighs, but alertly, diligently and predictably makes his way quickly to the young lord's bedroom. Knocking softly, he calls his master's title (never ever his name!). Getting no response, he opens the door on well oiled hinges to peek in.

He needs no candle to see in the room. Ciel's small, shivering shape is silhouetted against the moon (a waning gibbous, Sebastian remembers from his recent interest in astronomy). He is gasping for air and sobbing, at the same time coughing violently.

"Master!" Sebastian calls softly, rushing to the boy's bedside and rubbing small circles on his back. He realizes almost immediately that Ciel has somehow gotten an asthma attack. After a small amount of rubbing, a hurriedly prepared cup of tea, and a whole lot of uncontrollable coughing, the young earl is back in marginally fit condition.

"Did you have a nightmare, young lord?" Sebastian asks, withdrawing to a safe distance from the bed and forcing his brow to relax where it had tightened with worry.

"Y- Yes," Ciel stammers, taking a small sip of the tea. Earl Grey, of course, as Sebastian would never fail to forget his young lord's favorite tea.

"Do you wish to talk about it?" Sebastian asks gently. "It can be very helpful."

"No!" Ciel says, aghast. "Just... Just get out and let me sleep." With that, Ciel tugs the duvet over his waist, not able to pull it up any further, and turns over so his back is to his loyal butler.

"Yes, my lord," Sebastian agrees, allowing a tinge of sadness to creep into his voice. He truly does care for Ciel, but the young boy can be so infuriatingly cold, and much too often for Sebastian's preference. The demon tugs the duvet all the way up to Ciel's chin before making his way to the door.

"Sebastian, wait," Ciel says, his voice so much smaller. Sebastian turns obediently, expectant of something but not sure what.

"Yes, master?"

"Stay with me, until I fall asleep."

Sebastian does not question the order nor comment on it, because it may change the young boy's mind. Instead, he seats himself on the edge of the bed, smiling just a little bit when two small, delicate hands grasp his. His fingers curl around them comfortingly, his other hand resting on his master's soft teal black hair.

"I will stay with you until you fall asleep, and long after that, my lord."

But in the end, it's all just a job, and Sebastian has learned to accept that. After that, it's a problem with a solution that can wait until tomorrow.


End file.
